“I didn’t say that,” Padraig answers. “What I said was that one of his men reached out to one of my guys, told him to pass it to me, knowing that I would be the one to give the request to you.”
“Right,” I answer. “So… what do you think?”
“What do I think?” Padraig asks. “I think that Volkov is strong. He’s building something between families. A power base. He’s got Ivan Zorin and Kirill Antonov onside. That’s three powerful organizations working together. My feeling is that maybe he wants to bring you into that.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I ask, finishing off the coffee and motioning over toward the server for another. “What if he wants to lure meto a meeting, slit my throat, and claim my family’s territory as his own.”
“Well then you kill him,” Padraig answers. “Along with Zorin and Antonov too if that’s what it takes.”
“That’s the spirit,” I reply.
I take a moment to consider things. The fact that Viktor Volkov is calling for a meet means one of two things… he either genuinely wants to talk about putting an agreement in place, or he’s going to try and take my head.
Either way, I can’t ignore his request.
And whatever comes of this meeting, I need to do it my way.
The time for grieving is over.
My brothers ruled the family with strategy. I’m going to do things differently.
It’s time to show this motherfucking city what the new Kamedov pakhan is all about…
Chapter 3
William
The sun is shining like it’s personally decided to reward me for surviving another chaotic week, and I’m not about to waste a single second of it.
No lectures, no undergrad tutorials, no admin department bull-crap breathing down my neck.
Just me, my favorite running shoes, and a rare stretch of empty time before the academic machine starts grinding again tomorrow.
I lace up quickly in the tiny hallway of my apartment, glancing at Twist where he’s perched on the arm of the couch like a furry little sentinel. His dark eyes seem to approve of my decision.
“Wish me luck, Twist,” I murmur, giving his head a quick pat. “Today’s all about clearing my head.”
I slip out the door before I can talk myself into staying in with a book and a blanket fort. The city air already feels warmer than usual, carrying that fresh, almost hopeful scent that only happens on mornings like this.
My hair bounces flops from side to side as I jog the familiar route toward the park two blocks over. I’m wearing my cutest running outfit today—retro green shorts that hug my quads just right and a white top with tiny stars across my pecs that Davey got me for my last birthday. It’s not exactly high-performance gear, but it makes me feel a little more like myself…
And a little more Little, even if no one else can tell.
“Okay, here we go,” I say, psyching myself up.
The park comes into view almost too soon, the tall iron gates thrown open to welcome the early risers.
It’s quieter than I expected for such perfect weather. No screaming kids chasing soccer balls, no clusters of dog walkers arguing over leashes. Just the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant quack of ducks on the lake.
I pick up my pace a little, feet hitting the gravel path in a steady rhythm that matches the thump of my heart. The path curves around the water, sunlight glinting off the surface like scattered diamonds.
And then there they are…my favorite little family of mallards, bobbing along the edge like they own the place.
I slow just enough to wave at them, a silly grin spreading across my face. “Morning, guys! Don’t mind me, just passing through!”
One of the ducklings tilts its head like it’s actually listening, and I laugh under my breath. It’s ridiculous, but it feels good.Normal. The kind of simple joy that reminds me why I dragged myself out here instead of hiding under my covers with Twist and a cup of cocoa.
I wave at the mallards again for good measure and push onward, letting the path pull me deeper into the park.
